


under control

by monstersinthecosmos



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Welcome to the Madness, jerkin it, thinking about kinky stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-13 00:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11173392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monstersinthecosmos/pseuds/monstersinthecosmos
Summary: little drabble about Otabek going back to his room after WTTM to compose himself.





	under control

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have any profound reason for title grabbing this song cause it's a drabble and I don't have strong feelings about it LOL but IN CASE YOU'RE CURIOUS OR NEED A SOUNDTRACK I was thinking about [Under Control by Solar Fake](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btP_WsPmP_c). :)
> 
>  
> 
> also WTF I had the tiger emoji with Yuri's texts but AO3 didn't like it and it broke the HTML or something so. Just pretend.

Otabek had never felt so exhausted after doing such little work. But it was like a train hitting him when he finally got back to his room and fell into the bed. He hadn’t even turned the lights on—the ceiling danced in his vision, a dull gray lit only by the city outside.

Fuck.

Muscles tense and aching, and he knew it was probably just the sleep deprivation catching up. It had been a weird few days. Fucking Yuri keeping him out all night. But there was the same familiar, vague soreness in his legs, that same ache, even the usual mental noise after a performance—how had such a small cameo wrecked his nerves this bad?

He probably knew the answer.

His phone was digging into his hip, and he pulled it out to try to get comfortable. Quick glance at the screen showed the notification hovering there.

 

 **Yuri Plisetsky  
** where are you asshole !

 

He chuckled at the message but didn’t answer it. Fuckin Yuri.

Heart still pounding, eyes feeling heavy and sore, but every time he closed them…

The adrenaline piqued in his sides and his hand was pressing down against the front of his jeans before he realized he was doing it. He couldn’t stop seeing it, over and over. Yuri’s small frame arching up against the ice, the hollow space between the waist of his pants and his hip bones. The way his determination burned like anger in his eyes.

Fuck.

His phone was buzzing again from beside him, and he was sure it was Yuri, on the brink of a tantrum if he didn’t get a response soon. His muscles wanted so badly to sink into the mattress, and there was a near-hysterical need for sleep threatening beneath the surface. His mind ran a quick cycle through the options for the evening: Get undressed, shower, go to bed. Or answer the texts, find Yuri, wind up fuck knows where in Barcelona for the second night in a row. Catch the plane in the morning, stagger through security, muscles tight and head throbbing. The crash from the last few days was inevitable, and impending, but…

He figured he could put it off for another night.

_I’ll sleep when I’m dead._

His fingertips grazed his phone and he almost answered, but. But wait.

Deep sigh and frustrated little grunt as he unbuttoned his jeans.

It was only practical to relieve the pressure first if they were going out again. It was as essential to getting ready as showering, or getting dressed, or combing his hair. Because he couldn’t stop seeing it, and the sound of the audience was still humming in his ears, and it made him feel tense all over.

Still could taste the salt from Yuri’s fingers, the bitterness of the glove in his mouth.

He wasn’t sure when they’d see each other again, and wasn’t sure if it was appropriate, wasn’t sure if it was a beehive worth stepping on, but… fuck. Fucking Yuri.

Phone buzzed again beside him but he was already stroking himself, still seeing it. Spine arched and pants taut against the lithe thighs. Hot skin on the cold ice. Words like acid coming from such a pretty little mouth.

Fully hard and definitely not imagining that flexibility practiced elsewhere, not curved across a bed or a couch or a table, definitely not thinking about the verbal abuse that would provoke him to go harder. Not imagining the fury in the eyes, glaring up at him with a mouth full of his cock. The aggressive, spiteful way he’d squeeze and strip at Otabek’s shaft, like it was a challenge. That he’d click his teeth against the frenum barbell like a threat.

“Shit,” he said out loud to the empty room. His thumb rubbed the dripping precum down around his head.

Phone buzzed again and he grunted in frustration and finally grabbed it. Unlocked with his left thumbprint.

 

 **Yuri Plisetsky  
** i’m coming over

 

 **Yuri Plisetsky  
** answer your phone !!

 

 **Yuri Plisetsky  
** are you jerking off or something come on

 

His laugh rode on a gasp as his abs flexed. It was fine, he was almost done. He slowed his motions long enough to focus on texting back. _I’ll come down in a minute I’m getting ready_

It wasn’t really a lie, he didn’t think.

“Fuck, Yuri,” he breathed out, and he wasn’t thinking about how the pale, perfect skin would’ve been pink from touching the ice, and the way it would’ve lit up under a firm palm. Certainly wasn’t thinking about the leverage you could gain by a handful of that gorgeous blonde hair.

And, fuck, too late.

Aggressive pounding on the hotel room door, fucking brat, wasn’t thinking about bending him over his lap and spanking him, not while Yuri sucked on the fingers of his free hand, not thinking about how he’d be able to feel the hard dick pressed against his leg.

“The fuck, Otabek!” Yuri’s voice was muffled from the hallway, but clear enough. Fuck, fuck.

“In a sec!” he tried to keep his voice even as he shouted back, and, like that, thinking about the warm body _right there_ , on the other side of the door, had him spilling over his fist. He bit his lip to stifle the noise and squeezed himself through the spurts and contractions, and barely had time to enjoy the glow before scrambling into the bathroom to clean himself.

Quick once over—fixed his hair, straightened his clothes, slowed his breathing. Face was a little red but maybe Yuri wouldn’t notice.

Ready now.

He shook it off and opened the door.

“Hey.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on [tumblr](https://monstersinthecosmos.tumblr.com/post/161712179819/under-control)!


End file.
